


A Dark Knight

by quentinb



Series: Feelings? I don't know her. [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: BAMF Jim Gordon, Bisexual Jim Gordon, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Gay, Gay Male Character, M/M, Pining, Season/Series 04, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, Spoilers, also this is like, and i swear there will be a sequel, and if school doesnt eat my ass, gothamites are dumbasses, i didnt want to force it too quickly, once season five is finished, really slow burn, yall gotta get your shit together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2019-11-01 16:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17870984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quentinb/pseuds/quentinb
Summary: Alternate Title: We're Fucked.An old face returns to an even older city. Abraham Fay has arrived after attempting to seek revenge, but only coming to a dead end. Bored, lost, and unsure where to go next, he ends up getting involved with the GCPD. And honestly? It's the last place he expected for himself to show up. But there, he finds unlikely allies, friends, and a guy that may or may not be quite attractive to the flirty hitman. As things unfold and secrets are revealed, Abraham has to navigate his way around the city while trying to figure out his own shit as he hits rock bottom. But it can only go up from here, right?• ON HOLD FOR NOW •(the author is very busy :0)





	1. Pax Penguina

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! So, I haven't written something like this in a long time. Like... since I was maybe 11. I had the sudden inspiration to write about one of my favorite characters I've created, one I'm really proud of! I will link the character sheet of him, if you'd like, but it will give some spoilers to his backstory. I guess leave a comment if you would like to read! I'll link it to you.  
> This is really just self-indulgent, I don't really care about criticism or not since I'm just here to have fun! Leave it if you'd like, but becoming an awesome writer isn't my goal here. :0  
> I'm also watching the episodes as I do this, I'm trying to stay with the plot of season 4, so a lot of the dialogue and such is taken from the show. Sorry if it is repetitive! I just want it to be super accurate.  
> Anyways, I apologize for any grammar mistakes! I will be writing these chapters when it's late.  
> I really hope you guys enjoy! <3

The click clacking of leather dress shoes were almost impossible to hear over the sounds of Gotham. The city that never truly sleeps. People all around, not quite comprehending that any day here could be their last. 

The man with tan skin and strawberry red hair smirked. He gaze lingered on those walking past him, his brain not registering them as normal people, but potential targets. As he struts down the sidewalk, a wide berth of space was given to him, as if individuals could sense the terrible darkness that sits inside his core. 

“Abraham Fay is back Gotham. I hope you’re prepared.”

 

* * *

  
  


_ ‘Maybe robbing that place wasn’t quite the best idea,’  _ Abe thought to himself, glancing around at the officers in the GCPD as he was brought in wearing some nice, shiny handcuffs. Robbing was never really his forte, contracted killing on the other hand… well, that’s another story! But the man in red (and no, not Santa, this is a different kind of suit) was ready to flash that little paper of his and walk away scot free. The officer threw him in the holding cell, along with some other idiots that also managed to get caught doing God knows what. 

“Officer - could I speak to the man in charge? What I was doing was perfectly legal, I’ve got a license,” the cuffed man pouted, leaning his head against the bars. The other officer just eyed him before walking away. Abe huffed, annoyed that his excitement was cut short. He took a quick survey of the area, wondering about what has changed as he shuffled his arms and messed with the handcuffs he was still binded with. His thick, dark brown eyebrows furrowed. Then, suddenly, a click and a smile. Just as the man escaped his confines, he heard a frustrated voice from across the precinct. 

“Come on, man. Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Abe glanced up, noticing an obviously flustered man being dragged towards the holding cells, specifically the one he was in. “I got - I got a license!” The man exclaimed as the other guy, and might Abe add, a far more handsome man, opened the cell, shoving the yelling man inside with Abraham. The redhead watched with a smirk, knowing that yes, the man was in the same situation as he was.

“Yeah, and unless you shut up,” said the officer (Abe assumed, but come on, if some guy is tossing another dude into a holding cell, it’s safe to assume he’s a cop), The cop shut the cells door with a loud clank, and continued, “you’re also gonna get a fat lip.” He stared for a moment, before turning around, and he noticed the rest of the officers staring at him. “We got a problem?” There was a moment of silence and just staring. 

_ ‘Those guys don’t look too happy,’  _ Abe raised an eyebrow. He thoughtfully watched as the man went up to the big ol’ office at the top of the steps.  _ ‘The cops are a lot less… corrupt than they used to be’, _ blue eyes observed, unbelieving how much he missed. Well, this was going to be more fun than he expected. 

Looking up, back at balcony, our cocky protagonist notices the man from before out in the open with another man, looking quite a bit older than the other. The bearded man couldn’t seem to look the officer in the eyes, maybe guilty? Frustrated? Or just stressed? Abe was never that good at reading emotions, it wasn’t something he needed in life. 

_ ‘I should really figure out their names, even if I never meet them again, it’s annoying to keep referring to them as  _ **_that man_ ** _ or  _ **_officer_ ** _ ,’  _ Abe let out a low sigh, getting bored just waiting for his release. 

_ That man _ from before pulled out a paper slip, the license he confiscated from the criminal that joined Abe in the cell just moments before. He glanced back, his cellmate glaring at nothing in particular. Totally zoned out, probably just waiting to leave the GCPD like Abraham. 

Some more arguing and raised voices (Abe can lip read, but didn’t really feel like it, he just wanted someone besides is furious cellmate to talk to) later, the bearded man left and the clean cut officer looked back at the cell. Abe gave him a little wave and wink… he wasn’t so amused, shaking his head and ignored the prisoners.  _ ‘Boring.’ _

 

* * *

  
  


“Bloody Penguin,” curses Alfred as Bruce slaps a License of Misconduct on the table in front of him.

“There must be some way we can turn this against him,” contemplates Bruce. Alfred scoffs, pointing at Bruce as he says,

“Oh just stop. Stop right there. How does  _ this _ ,” he gestures to the slip on the table, and then back to Bruce, “fit into what we’re doing?” Bruce leans back, thinking about what to stay, but ultimately staying silent. Alfred shakes his head, continuing on, “What was the initial reason that you popped on that mask, and you went out there?” 

Bruce stands, face set and serious, and retorts, “We agreed that I have to be ready when Ra’s al Ghul returns,” he stares at Alfred, waiting for a second to see if he had anything to say, and went on, “You yourself said there’s no substitute for real world encounters.”

“But my point is, if that’s our mission, we must hold to it.” More hesitation.

“My finger was on the button that released the virus,” Bruce says as he walks closer to Alfred, standing directly in front of him.

“Oh, I see.”

“I know I didn’t press it, but I feel responsible for what happened,” he struggles for a split second as he tries to find the words to express what was going through his mind, “And, more than that, I can make a difference in Gotham, Alfred. I  _ know  _ I can.” He’s quiet and calm, yet passionate, and Alfred can tell that Bruce really means it, but he truly isn’t having it.

“And  _ that  _ is what we call mission creep, Master Bruce… You are trying to achieve not but, but  _ two  _ objectives. So, go on then, which one is your priority?” He stares a Bruce, but the boy stays quiet. Bruce’s eyes look off to the left for a second before returning the eye contact. “It’s messy, son. It’s dangerous.”

“I hear you Alfred… but I can prepare myself for Ra’s and make Gotham safer…” He clenches his jaw, takes a breath, and says firmly, “You have to trust me.” And with that, Mr. Wayne turns around, grabbing the license that lay on the table, and left Alfred as he bolted out of the study. 

 

* * *

  
  


“Well,  _ hello  _ there sir,” Abraham bites his bottom lip, eyeing the man from before. He glanced up, meeting the blue eyes of the officer in front of him. “Hmmm, officer, I believe you have to let me and,” he gestured back to the man, “this  _ imbecile _ who desperately needs a shower, go!” Abe moves his hands from behind his back, slipping his license out of his coat and held it between his gloved fingers. 

“... You’re free to go.” Is all he says as he unlocks the cell. The robber from earlier got his cuffs unlocked and he ran out, while Abe just handed his cuffs over to the policeman. He gave the redhead a neutral look, but he obviously wasn’t in any way amused. 

“Now… could I get a name to match to the face?” Abe crossed his arms, leaning back against the cell bars.

“Who wants to know?”

“Ah ah! I asked first!” Stalling, stalling, and then…

“Jim Gordon.”

“Ooo, well, pleasure to meet you Officer Gordon,” Abe stuck out his hand to shake Jim’s, but the man just stared at it and looked back to Abe’s eyes. “Hm, anyways,” Abe let his hand fall to his side, maintaining eye contact with Gordon, “It was a  _ pleasure  _ to meet you, Jimbo. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he pushed off from the cell, walked forward and spun around to say one last thing, “I hope I get to see you again sometime soon,  _ Jim. _ ” Abraham clicked his tongue, and made his way out of the precinct, disappearing once he stepped outside.

Jim let out a tired sigh.  _ ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” _

 

* * *

  
  


_ “All inmates, this is your last call. In five minutes, be sure to make your way to your door.”  _

 

Three men walk into the hallway of the asylum, one obviously working there and leading the other two men. The first shakes hands with the two, a grim smile painting his face. He motions his hand towards the hall, showing the men where to go to reach their destination. 

“This way.”

The first man, larger and balding, wrings his hands before greeting the man that waited at the end of the short hallway. “Hey, Warden Reed,” the large man turned to the shorter of the two (and he had far more hair), quietly saying “Warden Reed’s the boss here.” The second gave him an odd look, glancing past the chain wall that was the only thing keeping them apart from the prisoners of Arkham Asylum. All were sitting in a large circle, doing various sorts of activities. From music, to crying, wailing, puppeteering, or just chilling in their chair with a cage on their head. Really, just a normal day for good old Arkham. The man was already unnerved before but now-

“AHH!” an inmate screeched from his cell, banging against the door and frightening the man with the longer hair. He jumped, and gave a wide berth of space to the cell as the fucking weirdo laughed hysterically. Warden Reed gave a sort of smug smirk as the group made their way to him, observing them as they closed in. The shorter man furrowed his eyebrows, his mouth opening.

“Where is he?” He was freaked the hell out and just wanted to get the kid and leave. Was that too much to ask? 

“This way,” spoke the Warden in a low voice. He turned around, heading down the other hall and lead the way. All that could be heard was the clacking of their large boots against the ground and the more of a clicking noise from Reed’s far fancier shoes.

Finally, they reached the desired cell. Warden Reed glanced back at the two men before quickly opening the cell. The door swung open, and the short man was expecting the freak to jump out, but nothing happened. The larger man walked in first, leaning back against the wall just by the door. The other two gathered inside, watching.

“Back when I was an orderly in here,” he started, staring down at the boy scribbling on the floor with the charcoal, “he’d always talk about his dad, and this formula he’d made… Some sort of… scare juice. Make you see your greatest fear.”

“We get a hold of that,” interrupted the other visitor, looking over at his partner, “we don’t got to worry about Zsasz or Penguin, heh, or nobody.” The boy shuddered, continuing with the drawing on the ground of the dark cell. He hesitated before waving his hand towards the boy, “What’s wrong with him, anyway?”

The Warden sighed, placing his hands on his sides, “The toxin his father injected him with overloaded Jonathan’s fear response,” he drawled, “His mind created some sort of bogeyman figure and now it… haunts him,” he changed his composure, speaking louder now to the two men, “I find it very useful for,” he signaled towards Jonathan, “controlling him.” He kept his hand up, moving around his fingers, waiting for  _ something. _ The one who had done the most talking shuffled his hand in his pocket before pulling out a wad of cash, placing it in the hand of the Warden. Reed then directed his attention towards dear Jonathan.

“Jonathan, you’re going with these men.” And, like clockwork, the two said men hurried forward, grabbing the arms of the young boy. And then, Jonathan started freaking out.

“What? Wait, where are you taking me?” He struggled against their hold.

“Just wanna give someone a little scare.”

As the men took Jonathan with them, Warden Reed glanced back into the cell. There, on the ground, drawn in charcoal, was a  _ scarecrow. _

 

* * *

  
  


Harvey walked into the station, looking all around at the victims and only stopping once he caught up to Jim. As he walked up, a man in a gurney kept muttering 

“Demons. Fiery demons, fiery demons! Fiery demons, demons..” he grabbed onto Harvey as he rolled past.

“Demons, yeah yeah yeah. We’ll catch ‘em,” he pulled the man's hands off of him, signaling for the EMTs to get him out of there, “Get him out of here, go go go!”

“Fiery demon…”

“Hey,” Harvey calls to Jim, finally getting over to the other detective.

“Did Penguin issue a license for this?” Jim questioned, looking out over the station, disappointed. 

“Why are you asking me?” Jim turned around, staring at him. Silence. Harvey sighed, “Best of my knowledge, no.” Jim curled his lips slightly.

“Then why do something so public, unless you’re trying to send Penguin a message.”

“I hope the message was, ‘Please send Victor Zsasz down here to kill me’, because that’s exactly what’s gonna happen!” Harvey gritted out. Jim set his jaw, a serious look flashing across his face.

“Not if I find them first.”

“Hey-”

“You asked me stop busting crooks with licenses. This gang  _ doesn’t have a license _ .”

“And  _ you’re  _ gonna find them before Zsasz just to prove that GCPD still matters? That’s not thumbing your nose at Penguin?”

“Fire me.”

“Hey, don’t tempt me!” Harvey pointed and followed after Jim as the man started to turn and walk away. Jim stopped and Harvey gave him an annoyed smile. He opened and closed his mouth, debating on what to say, then huffed, before saying, “You got a lead?” Jim gave him a crooked smile, before nodding towards the injured party. 

“The victims, the way they’re acting, their terror reminds me of Crane’s formula.”

“You think someone’s using the fear juice? It ain’t him, he’s dead, remember, not that that much matters in this town anymore.”

“He’s dead. His  _ son _ isn’t.”

 

* * *

  
  


Abe yawned, stirring the drink in his glass lazily. He glanced over on the huge ass paparazzi shit going on in the front of the club. He may or may not have, ah, bribed his way in, not that it matters too much. This Penguin guy was interesting, he was sure he had heard of him before, but oh well. Not that it matters. The guy was alright with any publicity, it seemed, which was probably why he got in so easily. 

He also noticed a woman, red hair, just chilling on the other side of the room. Now he had no idea who she was. Man, Gotham truly did change a lot since he had last been here. Wild.

“Exclusive, but welcoming,” started said  _ King of the Underworld. _ Lights flashed from the cameras, and he continued, “Urbane and  _ edgy _ ,” he tapped his hands against the countertop he was leaning against. He then pushed himself forward, “Tonight’s opening will establish the Iceberg Lounge,” he limped forward towards the huge fucking ice cube in the middle of the room, which Abraham had been eyeing the whole time, quite confused. “As Gotham’s newest place to see,” he turned towards the cameras, “and be seen.” He gave a little smile. 

“And you say you acquired the club from Barbara Kean?” Questioned one woman reporter. 

“Is that a question?” Penguin asked quick and honestly? He was totally trying to intimidate her. 

_ ‘Funny,’  _ Abe thought, continuing to watch from afar,  _ ‘how such a small man like him can scare the shit out of the entire city of Gotham.’ _ The woman continued, more hesitant now.

“It’s just no one’s seen her for months, and-”

“Barbara Kean’s whereabouts are not my concern,” now Abe was curious as to  _ who  _ this Barbara lady was. He’d have to ask someone. Penguin limped quickly forward, back to where he had started off his little speech, and went on. He picked up a glass, and spoke, “This was The Sirens club. It is now mine.” He raised the glass up, taking a sip. And now another reporter spoke.

“Mr. Cobblepot, there’s a rumor going around about criminals being given licenses,” he said, “The rumor is you’re issuing them.” Penguin huffed.

“Tell me, what is the crime rate in Gotham?”

“... We’re at historic lows.”

“Historic lows…” Oswald says, glancing around with a smirk, he starts walking forward and around yet again, “You know, Augustus Caesar once presided over the longest period of peace and prosperity the world has ever known.” he turns back around to face the group of reporters. Man, Abe had to admit that the man really did have a way with words. He’s got these people wrapped around his finger. Oswald eyed those listening, “It was called the Pax Romana,” he gave an innocent little shrug, smugly saying, “Perhaps one day, this will be known as the  _ Pax Penguina. _ ” He snorted.

“That’s not a denial,” stated the man who originally asked the question. Penguin kept his smug little smile on his weird little face.

“We’re here to talk about my club,” he gave a little gasp, his face returning to his normal demeanor. “Your readers will find this interesting,” he gestured towards the ginger woman from earlier, “Ivy?” 

_ ‘Ah, so that’s her name,’  _ Abe turned his focus back to her. 

Said Ivy raises her hand with a little smile, clicking a button. With a sudden thud, lights shone on the giant ice cube that stood in the middle of the room. There, in all its glory was… a man? Okay, Abe was confused as hell. Who was this guy? Why are they just taking pictures? Shouldn’t they be freaking out? Okay, he may have really missed out on  _ way  _ more.

“That’s Edward Nygma!” Exclaimed the first woman reporter.  _ ‘Who?’ _

“Turns out, Ed had a very rare brain disease, and there was only one option, to freeze him and wait for the cure.” 

_ ‘Awe, how  _ **_sweet_ ** _ ,’  _ Abe set his glass of scotch on the bartop, not really feeling it anymore. Sweet little Pengy faced everyone once more. Tears formed in the kingpin’s eyes.  _ ‘Holy fuck, this is gay, and sad. Poor man.’ _

“In his final lucid moments, he begged me,  _ ‘Oswald, do not hide me away. Put me out with the people.’ _ ... It was the least I could do..”

“Anyone tell him he was being frozen?” Abe perked up at the voice, recognizing it immediately. He went on his tippy toes, noticing someone he really hadn’t expected to see so soon. There, in all his glory, stood Jim Gordon. And boy, Penguin looked  _ furious _ . The little man limped aggressively over to the detective.

“I have affidavits from his doctor if you would like to see them,” the reporters followed after him like the dogs they were, but Abe stayed at his place at the front bar.

“No thanks,” Jim said, voice deep. Penguin suddenly turned around, making the reporters stop in their places. Once he was sure they would  _ stay there _ , he continued forward to Jim. Abraham stood up from his spot. He wanted a closer look now. He stalked forwards, around the other side of the ice cube of a man in the middle of the room, away from the reporters, but he was still able to see everything.

“Well, Jim,” And there was that creepy smile again, “I’m rather busy, so whatever your business is-”

“I came to tell you, you’re a fraud,” and oh, did Oswald’s face drop. Jim raised his voice as he spoke, “The gang that has Crane’s fear toxin, they’re not afraid of you. Others will find out. That’s how it begins,” He stepped closer, and lowered his voice, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear, “You’ve had a nice run, Oswald, but it’s over.” As Jim was about to leave, Oswald grabbed him,  _ hard, _ and pulled him close.

“Oh, Jim, it’s so hard to admit when you’ve become irrelevant,” Abe held back a snort. Ah, this was so much better than the soap operas he had to deal with for the past couple years. Oswald released him, looking as if he was about to have a temper tantrum. He stared at Gordon with his big eyes, and it was silent for a moment. 

“Let me tell you what’s gonna happen. I’m going to find this gang, and I’m going to  _ crush them, _ ” He grinned once more, a lilt to his voice as if he was ready to start laughing any second, “And everyone will see that it is  _ Oswald Cobblepot _ , the  _ Penguin _ , who keeps Gotham safe.” Jim had a small, slightly smug, possibly, smile. And, not saying anything, he left. 

Abe pouted. Man, he was really hoping he would have been able to have a little chat with Jim. The man was an enigma (hey, that Nygma guy has the initials of E. Nygma… odd!).

“Always good to see you,  _ old friend _ .” Oswald yelled after Jim, but he was already gone.

 

* * *

  
  


A little while later, Abe was still just wandering around the Iceberg Lounge. The reporters had left, but he had decided to stick around for a little bit, and so far he hadn’t gotten in trouble, soooo… he was going to enjoy himself.

He was about to walk right back into the main room, but stopped himself when he heard Oswald Cobblepot start talking to himself. When Abe peaked, he noticed he wasn’t talking to himself, but to the iced man.  _ ‘Well, we all have our… quirks.’ _

“ _ Remember _ how you accused me of being a slave to my emotions?... No more, I have banished those feelings,” Abe started to inch into the room, walking up slowly behind the crime lord.

“And look how I have risen… but at what cost?... I wonder which of us is frozen…”

“Well, uh, him, duh.” Abe snorted a bit, and Oswald jumped, turning around sharply. “He’s literally a huge ass ice cube, my man. Frozen as fuck.” And he was making that tantrum face again.

“Who are  _ you _ , and what are you doing here?” Oswald asked, and man, if looks could kill, Abraham would have bled out ages ago. Abraham licked his lips, and then bowed  _ real _ low to the ground.

“Abraham Fay! I’ve heard about you. It’s a pleasure, Ozzy-”

“ **_Penguin or Mr. Cobblepot._ ** ”

“Right! Penguin. And as for what I’m doing here, I haven’t been in Gotham for a bit, so I’ve been showing myself around,” he spun around, waving his arms around him, “And this is a real nice place! Oh, and by the way,” he clicked his tongue, “you might want some new bodyguards, they accept bribes  _ wayyyyy _ too easily.”

“Well,  _ Abraham _ ,” venom laced his tongue, “you should probably-”

“Aww, Ozzy, were you talking to Ed again? He’s frozen, he can’t hear you,” interrupted Ivy, crossing her arms with a smile. Oswald growled. Okay, so maybe Abe pushed his buttons a little too much. 

“ _ Ivy, Abraham _ ... **_go somewhere else._ ** ” Abe cringed a bit, waved, and left to go adventure in the room he had been in previously. He didn’t want to leave quite yet, so he would go and fuck off somewhere else in the club. Ivy gave a crooked frown, eyebrows furrowing. She scoffed, strutting off to the room she had come in from.

And Oswald was alone.

 

* * *

  
  


Soon, the club was filled with all sorts of people. Rich folk, criminals, crooks, or just some people who wanted a taste of the lavish life of the Penguin. Drinking, laughing, you name it. Abraham opted out of a drink this time, deciding that tonight, he didn’t feel like getting drunk. It would be too much work in the morning, and he didn’t really have the most comfortable place to stay.

He fixed his gloves, straightened his black tie, and smoothed out his bright red suit. When he was out and about, he  _ wanted  _ to be noticed, he  _ wanted  _ attention. Thus, the flashy colors and clothes. From across the room, he noticed Bruce Wayne, of all people, speaking to the Penguin. At least he could recognize someone in the city. Sucks about his parents though, poor kid. He noticed that Cobblepot nodded his head towards some skinny guy at the edge of the room, and according to his lip reading talent, they were talking about the licenses.  _ ‘Now, why would Bruce Wayne be interested in that?’ _ He filed away the information for later.

He glanced behind him, noticing that Victor Zsasz was walking this way (of course he knew who Victor was, he was a real famous dude, in and out of Gotham), but not towards him. Towards some girl behind him. Time to eavesdrop if he wants to get real caught up in the drama of Gotham! 

He would only listen, watching would make him a tad too obvious.

“Where’s your babysitter? It’s kind of a package deal.” That was Zsasz.

“Yeah, well, he’s got me. Is that good enough or not?” So, that must be the girl.

“Actually, we’re both in.” Ooo, that’s a new person! Hesitation, and then,

“I should… pat you down for weapons.” Smooth.

“Sure, if you wanna lose a hand.”

“It was worth a shot.” He could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll tell the boss.”

Abe hummed silently to himself. Now, he was curious as to what that was about, but it was best not to get himself into anymore trouble with the Penguin. He already pissed the guy off, so for now, he shall observe. He ended up ignoring the conversation between the two woman, zoning out and listening to the music that blared around him.

Sudden banging and yelling pulled him out of his stupor. Abe stood up, moving with the crowd, seeing Penguin, Zsasz, and some of the people he saw around bring out some guys dressed up in some weird outfits.  _ ‘Now this must be that gang that Jim and Ozzy here were talking about earlier, what an interesting course of events’. _

“For the past three months,” Oswald paces in front of the gang, limping slightly, “I have given this city a tranquility it has never known!” He exclaimed as the men were forced onto their knees. “Now, I would like to ensure that peace for the future. In the weeks to come, you will hear whispers,” cameras flash, “about what’s happening on the streets of Gotham.” 

Abe was moved to the side as Bruce Wayne and his butler moved past him, and they looked just as confused and shocked as Abraham felt. He knew the Penguin was crazy, but is he really planning a live execution? 

“All you need to know is without me,  _ this  _ is what you get.” He pointed back the four people behind him, “Men who want to bring fear back to our city. Who promise a return to the  _ old days _ .” 

_ ‘I definitely wouldn’t mind the good old days compared to this shit.’ _

“So, tell your families, tell your friends, it is  **_Oswald Cobblepot_ ** who keeps them safe.  **_Not_ ** the GCPD.” There was a silence, not anyone dared to make a peep. Oswald shook and waved his arms. “ **_You’re welcome!_ ** ” And thus, everyone clapped. 

“I have my things in the car, we can stop them in the parking garage.” Said Bruce  **_fucking_ ** Wayne. Not what he was expecting out of the kid.

“Absolutely not, Master Bruce.” Oh thank God, the butler has some brains. Don’t let the kid do this shit.

“Alfred, Penguin’s gonna take those men out and kill them.”

“Undoubtedly so. But, as you said before, you can make a difference. There is a time for masks, and there is a time for Bruce Wayne.” Man, deep shit.

_ ‘I wish I had an emotional support butler’. _

“Do you know what’s going to be done to you?” Taunted Oswald to the men.

“Wait!” And there goes the kid! Abe wanted to applaud, but he didn’t want to ruin the tension.

“I want to know what you’re going to do with those men.”

“You need not concern yourself with that!” Oswald shuffled in place, his creepy smile ever present on his face.

“Are those men going to be turned over to the police?” Bruce stood his ground. This needed to be done the right way, not the vigilante way. Oswald chuckled, obviously not taking him seriously. He limped forwards towards the billionaire, still smirking. Alfred got closer to Bruce, obviously ready to protect him if need be.

“Earlier tonight, you thanked me for making the city safer,” the crime lord got all up in Bruce’s face, “Now, how do you think that happened?” Cobblepot questioned aggressively. The man then raised his voice, continuing on, “I do the dirty work no one else will.”

“I understand. But I’m asking you to turn those men over to the police.” Bruce kept his calm, while Oswald on the other hand, well… he was breathing heavily, as if he was just ready to snap any second. The man stared daggers into the young man.

“You’re young,” he nodded, “You have a good heart... “ a moment of silence. Did Oswald have a change of hear- “No.” Ah, no. No he didn’t. 

Then, there was a crackle of electricity. Darkness. Someone shut off the lights. People screamed, they panicked, and pushed everyone aside trying to escape. Abe managed to escape the mob before he got trampled. 

The sound of guns cocking drew Abe out of his confusion. He directed his attention towards the gang, and oh boy, they were utterly and totally  **_fucked._ **

_ ‘They could have taken us out to dinner first.’ _

Fighting broke out, someone escaped, someone was knocked out by the butler, and Abe just watched on, not doing anything. He moved out of the way, not wanting to be involved, but ended up bumping straight into Jim, of all people. Him and that bearded guy (he’s gotta ask his name) must have been watching the club. Abraham and Jim made eye contact before diverting their attention to Oswald and the gang. Now was not the time.

So much was happening. Fighting, yelling, and that screaming. Oh, that terrible screaming. Where was the screaming coming from? Abe whipped around, and it was Oswald… He fell to the floor, crying and screaming, and the remaining of the four gang members were dispatched. One was laughing at Oswald writhing in pain on the floor, but before he could do much more, Jim punched his lights out.

“You’re under arrest,” Jim pointed his gun at the man, the one who had done something to the Penguin. The bearded man pulled out his handcuffs. “By order of the Gotham City Police Department. Cuff him.”

As the man was taken away, Oswald screamed and cried, grabbing onto Jim and crying out.

“Help me! Help me!” Flashes of lights lit up the two men as the cameras went off.

“Well, that’s gonna make the front page…” Abe muttered. Penguin was  **_not_ ** gonna be happy.

_ ‘What have I gotten myself into?’ _


	2. The Fear Reaper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long! I've been a busy bee, and on top of that, had a hard time feeling confident enough to write.  
> I told myself that this was practice and would help me, and I pushed myself to start the next chapter, and I am happy with it. Happier than I was with the first, and that may be because I had some time to practice with Abe within RPs and such, or maybe because I am out of school and can actually think of things that aren't school for once (although I am still stressing about the college classes I am taking this upcoming school year and such).  
> The chapter is a little over 5,000, again, and I'm sorry! I know a lot consider that too long. My goal is always 4,000 because that's reasonable, but anything more than 5,000 is too long oop. Thankfully, it's like, 25 words over or something. :")  
> Apologies again. I hope to get another chapter out sooner than I did with this.  
> Also apologies for any spelling mistakes and grammar errors, I am one person and I don't have a beta.  
> Enjoy! :3
> 
> P.S. I feel I spent more time on this chapter because Scarecrow is my FAVORITE and I wanted to do my babey justice. Apologies once more!  
> P.P.S. You can tell I really love Jim's voice in this chapter oop-

Sirens wailed and thunder roared as police cars rolled up to the ancient building. Lightning lit up the sky as the storm raged on. The officers exited their vehicles, taking a moment to gaze at the building before shutting their doors with a slam. A man, who we had introduced to as previously as Jim Gordon, spoke. 

 

“This is where Merton said they should be,” he started towards the house, the others following along with him, “Let’s go, everybody, stay sharp.” They withdrew their guns and their flashlights, pushing forwards.

 

Silence enveloped the house until  _ BAM!  _ Gordon kicked in the door with his fellow officers, all of them rushing in. They aimed their flashlights around the house. The silence once again returned. No one was hidden in the shadows, and no one was preparing an attack on the police. There was absolutely nothing except an abandoned house.

 

“There’s no one here,” Bullock stated the obvious, “They’re long gone by now.” Despite his friend’s commentary, Jim continued his search. Before him on a table stood some old chemistry supplies. Beakers and vials littered the plastic covered table. 

 

“This place smells like death,” Harvey continued, “Reminds me there’s a Thai joint not far away, if you wanna grab something to eat after.” He joked dryly, trying to bring some sort of humor into the situation at hand. Jim was not as amused.

 

“Very funny. It’s the toxin.” He stood beside the table. He brought his flashlight over it, highlighting the various science supplies that was sprawled across it. “They made more of it.” Jim stared down at the table, face unreadable.

 

“Lookie here,” Harvey grabbed his attention. Jim turned to see where the other man pointed his flashlight at. “An asylum uniform,” Harvey picked it up, “1109.” He turned to his friend. “That’s Crane’s number, right?”

 

Outside, the thunder roared even louder as the rain started picking up. Jim’s attention was drawn to the window, not bothering to answer his partner’s question as he walked over to it. Bullock watched silently. Lightning revealed a scarecrow put up in the middle of the yard, seeming like the beginning to a cliche horror movie. It was almost as if soon, a monster would reveal itself from its hiding place in the shadows and devour them all. Something was wrong.

 

Jim motioned for his partner to follow him as he raced to the door and outside, Harvey following quickly behind him. They both flashed their lights onto the figure in front of them. The scarecrow. 

 

Jim approached, holstering his gun. Harvey didn’t. The former man slowly brought his hand up to the hat of the scarecrow. Quickly, he grabbed the hat, pulling it away, revealing a man with a shaved head and mustache. Said man awoke, screaming and making distressed noises.

 

“He’s coming!” The man cried, gasping loudly between words.

 

His voice not quite shaking, but the tone portraying the confusion and hesitation that he felt inside. “Who?” Questioned Jim, his deep voice rumbling.

 

**_“Scarecrow!”_ **  
  


* * *

 

Abraham grumbled to himself, anger sweeping through his veins as he stomped down the sidewalk towards the GCPD. Now, what could have our pretty hitman’s panties in a twist? It takes quite a bit to piss off the man, despite his enormous ego. He knew when to lay low and knew when people were egging him on. So, who stirred him up to enrage him so?

 

“That stupid, little, moron  **_Penguin_ ** .” Ah yes, of course. Apparently, dear little Penguin didn’t appreciate Abe’s attitude nor his quips, which were supposed to be considered charming and funny. Cobblepot instead found them annoying and honestly,  _ unbearable _ . So what did the little guy think to do? Revoke Abraham’s crime license. Petty, petty Penguin.

 

Abe technically didn’t need the license, he could still do whatever he wanted. But that was  _ literally  _ his get out of jail free card. He got caught once already, he didn’t want to risk getting put into Blackgate, or even worse, Arkham. He wasn’t on top of his game, so it wasn’t the best idea to go around without said license when he needed more practice. Plus, he also  _ loved  _ seeing the look on Gordon’s face when he was let out of the cell and handed him the handcuffs.  _ Priceless. _

 

At last, he reached the entrance to the police station. He straightened his coat, not wanting to look as worked up as he was, and strode right inside.

 

The first thing that greeted Abe’s ears was the sound of muttering and the clicking of keys. The next was a sudden, ear piercing wail that erupted from holding cells. He turned his direction over to see a man pointing and screaming at nothing in his cell, obviously, appearing very distressed. 

 

‘ _ Probably another wacko, _ ’ Abe thought, now focusing his intense gaze on the man in front of the cell. ‘ _ Ah, dear old Jim. _ ’ And with that, he pushed forward towards the opposing man.

 

* * *

 

_ “Last warning! Stop mucking around.” _

 

Arkham was an awful place. I shouldn’t even have to tell you that. Patients strapped into beds as nurses pumped them with drugs, guards yelling and hitting the mentally ill, no one giving them any effective treatment.

 

It truly is hell on Earth.

 

_ “Everybody in bed. Everybody in bed.” _

 

It’s disgusting.

 

In one office, you can find the man in charge of it all. Warden Reed, AKA an awful excuse for a human being. 

 

He flits around his office, grabbing and tossing papers into a fire he created in his wastebasket. Can’t have any evidence, can he? It’s unfortunate for him that he is focused on the task at hand and not his surroundings.

 

From the shadows emerges a figure, a scythe at its side. Thunder roars and light fills the room as a storm rages on outside. The warden gasps, turning around to see  _ him.  _

 

Basically dressed in rags, stitched together with whatever he could find, and big, deranged eyes could be seen from the slits in the burlap sack the boy wore on his head. He was covered in dirt, and his shoulders were heaving as he stared down the man in front of him, unblinking. Tubes unfold from the mask, his breathing loud and heavy. Poor Reed could hear it perfectly over the sound of the storm.

 

**_“Covering your dirty footprints, Warden?”_ ** Crane crept towards Reed, voice muffled by the gas mask. 

 

He raised his scythe. 

 

**_“It’s too late, I’m afraid.”_ ** He scraped his scythe against the metal tabletop beside him.

 

Reed cringed.

 

**_“Your dirty deeds have stained you.”_ ** Another step forward.

 

“How-how did you get in here?” Warden Reed managed to spit out, trying to avoid eye contact with the entity in front of him. He couldn’t look. He just couldn’t.

 

**_“C’mon,”_ ** the boy tilted his head in something resembling childlike innocence. It was a lie.  **_“You don’t spend three years in this hellish place without picking up a thing or two.”_ ** His walking pace became faster. He was only a few feet away from the other man at this point. 

 

“Jonathan?”

 

**_“That’s right. I’m not the same_ ** _ frightened  _ **_boy you threw in a cell,”_ ** closer and closer. The warden moved behind his desk, hands up.

 

**_“No treatments, no therapy. Just some ice baths, and some ssssick electric shocks once in a while.”_ ** Venom laced his words, practically dripping from his mouth.

 

“You know, you could just leave…!” He sounded almost sheepish as he kept his hands up, “I  _ wouldn’t  _ tell anyone-”

 

**_“I don’t_ ** _ want  _ **_to_ ** _ leave _ **_, Warden.”_ **

 

The phone rang.

 

Warden reached for it, but Crane wasn’t having that. His scythe crashed down on the phone, almost taking Warden’s hand with it.

 

**_“Now, are you paying attention?!”_ **

 

“Yeah-”

 

**_“I_ ** _ cured  _ **_myself. You see, I feared the scarecrow.”_ **

 

Reed eyed the gun in his drawer. Crane (or the Scarecrow?) raised his arms.

**_“And now we are one.”_ **

 

“Jonathan, please, if you just-”

 

**_“You’re not_ ** _ listening _ **_to me, Warden! JONATHAN CRANE IS NO MORE! Call me by my_ ** _ true  _ **_name-”_ **

 

Warden reached for the gun, but it was already too late for him. As he stood up straight to take aim, his face was filled with a moldy colored gas. His eyes stung, tears dripped down the side of his face as he gasped. He gagged and coughed for air. It filled his lungs, and under the imposing mask, a smirk.

 

**_“The Scarecrow.”_ **

 

* * *

 

“Jim,  _ pleaaaaase  _ hear me out-”

 

“Mr. Fay, I already said no-”

 

“Eugh, don’t call me that, just call me Abe. Weirdo. And anyways, I swear I won’t be too much trouble please please please-”

 

“Abe, you can’t help us. I don’t care what sort of vendetta you have against Oswald or what he has against you. This is police business only, and you are not an officer. You’re a criminal.” Jim sighed, rubbing his temples as he leaned back against his desk. Abe had been bugging him for the past 30 minutes, preaching to the poor detective about how useful he could be against Cobblepot, and his only reason for the sudden change of heart was because of the whole licence thing. This man had only been in Gotham for what seemed like a couple days, but he was already driving Jim up the wall.

 

And all of this just after Penguin had come in to make his big announcement about how he was better than the GCPD and how he would catch Jonathan first. Abraham was really trying to play to his weaknesses right now, especially after witnessing the chaos.

 

“Okay but like, wouldn’t having a criminal on your side me useful? Don’t give me that look! Seriously, I know things about the underworld that could be useful in your fight against Penguin,” Abe threw his hands in the air as he spoke, “I don’t like what he’s doing to Gotham! This place used to have some pretty respectable crime syndicates, but now look at what we have! Please Jim, I swear, I’ll obey the law or whatever you want me to do, I just wanna take that little bird out.” He hates that he promised not to break the law (something he will most certainly break) but God, he was desperate for revenge. Just because he hadn’t been back in Gotham for a while didn’t mean he could let all these new guys push him around.

 

Jim stayed silent for the moment, going back in forth in his head. He hated the fact that he was even considering letting Abraham help them (although, the final decision would be Harvey, but the man trusts him and would probably be more on board for this than him despite him wanting to stay on Oswald’s good side). Gordon closed his eyes and huffed, opening them once more to stare back at the blue eyes of the tan man in front of him.

 

“You know what-I’ll let you pitch to idea to Bullock. How does that sound?”

 

“Yes yes! Thanks bud!”

 

“I’m not your bud-and no guarantees.”

 

* * *

 

Harvey loved the idea. Maybe a little too much.

 

They had bumped into him just as he was about to explain the Jonathan Crane situation, but Jim wanted the Abraham stuff over with first. Turns out he’s gonna have to deal with him for longer than expected.

 

Harvey decided that a well trained hitman (that may or may not be just a little rusty) would be useful in this current situation they have going on. Get Crane in 24 hours. And they could use any firepower they could get. He also wanted the conversation over quickly so they could get to work, but still wanted something out of it.

 

Abe, now dubbed as a temporary civilian investigator, listened to Harvey’s explanation.

 

“So, the mental asylum is under siege. The lunatics are running riot. The guards called it in before they bolted for the hills.”

 

“Crane? Jonathan Crane?” Jim questioned as Abe scrunched his eyebrows together. He’ll ask Jim about who that guy was later.

 

“He made more toxins, right? What happens when you dose 100 nutjobs?”

 

“Shit.” Abe commented.

 

Jim rushed them out of Harvey’s office and out into the bullpen. “All right, listen up!” The few officers that were there turned their attention to Jim as he raised his voice. “There’s a riot at the asylum. I need as many of you as can come.” He ordered as he, Harvey, and Abraham strode to the entrance of the station. “Who’s with me?”

 

And no one was. The officers avoided any and all eye contact with Gordon, as if they didn’t even hear him. 

 

“Good luck with that,” Harvey commented. Jim furrowed his eyebrows together.

 

“You really think  _ Penguin _ is gonna make this go away?” The detective called out to his coworkers.

 

“Oh boy, ready to hear an inspiring Jim Gordon speech?” Harvey nudged Abe, the man chortled lightly before clearing his throat, paying attention to the man, the myth, the legend.

 

“He’s just getting rich off the same lowlifes you guys used to hate as much as me!” Silence. “Ah, forget it. Not  _ one  _ of you is fit to wear the badge-”

 

“This badge,” someone called out, “gets us spat on and shot at every day. For what?” The desk sergeant gestured around, “What difference have we made out there?” A chorus of ‘yeah!’ and ‘he’s right!’ were heard among the few who were there.

 

Jim stared them down, and then, “Harvey, Abraham, let’s go.”

 

Abe let out a low whistle. “Damn, that was  _ hot _ ,” he muttered, getting a sidearm from Bullock as Jim and Abe headed to the door, but Bullock didn’t follow.

 

Jim noticed, of course. “Come on, don’t do this.” Abe watched on, wishing they could all just get a move on.

 

“I told you one day that you would say now or never, and I would say never. Well,  _ today _ is that day,” he took a breath before continuing, “If I go with you, I lose them, and then who’s gonna be the new captain, huh? Because it’s  _ damn well  _ gonna be someone  _ Penguin _ chooses… So, I am sorry, partner, but you’ve only got Abraham on this one.” And then, he turned away, leaving the two men in the dust and on their own.

 

“Yeah.” Gordon spoke, before turning around and leaving, Abe hot on his heels.

 

* * *

 

_ ‘This is wayyyy too quiet for an asylum riot,’ _ Abe thought as Jim and him traversed down a corridor with fencing surrounding them. Jim insisted on taking the lead (how gentlemanly!) with the flashlight as the hitman followed close behind.

 

As they step through, the destruction the inmates caused was prevalent. Objects strewn about, various things on fire (the crackling was the only sound they could hear besides the occasional creak of the building), and smoke rose to the ceiling as the made their way down the hall. Splashes of what had to be blood littered the walls, the flashing yellow of the emergency lights making Abraham feel lightheaded.

 

A scream and footsteps startled both Abe and Jim, the two of them aiming their guns behind them…

 

Someone, on the other side of the gate had gone on all fours, back towards the ground, and maneuvered themself around the hall.

 

But they were just a distraction.

 

Behind them yet again, a woman shrieks, her voice sounding raspy and hoarse. She limps from one side of the hall to the other, a manic smile on her face.

 

The two turned back, just missing her as she moved out of their vision. The walls felt like they were twisting and moving, disorienting the outsiders as they continued their trek down the long hallway.

 

“GCPD,” Gordon calls out. Abe side eyes him before focusing at the task at hand. “GCPD,” he says again, quieter.

 

At the end of the hall, behind another gate, patients were throwing things, moaning and wailing as they wreaked havoc in the asylum. But, because of this, the two couldn’t see the horror lurking behind them. Abraham gasped, feeling something touch his shoulder. He and Jim turned around fast, sidestepping away from the offender. There stood Warden Reed, his face painted to resemble a plain clown. He let out a demented laugh, grinning like a manic as he stared with his cold, dead eyes. Quickly, he grabbed at Jim’s gun, trying to pry the shotgun out of his hands. Abe watched on, gun raised but not wanting to aggravate the patients around them any further.

 

Plus, Jim wouldn’t like that.

 

“I’m not scared of you anymore, you see?” The crazed Reed taunted, still attempting to release the gun from Jim’s grip. _“I_ _am you!”_ He laughed again.

 

Jim decked him in the face, but the man, now a  _ clown _ pulled him up and pushed him into a wall. Then, Abe struck. He whacked Reed in the back of the head with the butt of his gun, causing him to release Gordon. But he was down. Jim cocked his gun, aiming at the once sane man as he skipped down the hall. Abe and Jim shared a look before deciding to leave him be.

 

* * *

 

**_“Oh, it’s you… You came.”_ **

 

* * *

 

Feedback and static was heard over the PA of Arkham, causing the two to look around in confusion. 

 

**_“Brothers and sisters,”_ ** the voice spoke,  **_“the enemy is here.”_ **

 

“That must be Crane, huh?” Joked Abe. Jim was about to answer, but was cut off by a loud beep and the gate keeping the patients away from them opening. 

 

“Crap.” Jim booked it down the opposite way, Abraham following close behind him. But there was no escape. Another beep sounded, and their only possible way of safety shut in front of them with a loud clang. Both Abe and Jim crashed into the gate, Abe cursing madly and Jim desperately searching for another way.

 

**_“Tonight, Detective, you will pay for what you’ve done. Tonight… you will know fear!”_ **

 

And so, it began.

 

The patients came at them, but none of them truly trained in any sort of fighting style, so they were basically just flailing and flinging their bodies at the men. As each attacker got close to them, Jim and Abe would knock each one unconscious. Be that with their guns, or their fists. Anything to keep them down and out. 

 

Gordon raised his shotgun, trying to shoot, but nothing would come out. Jammed, or out of ammo, he didn’t care. The man dropped it and quickly pulled out his pistol. He shot the walls and fencing around the patients, effectively scaring them off. Abe could only watch in awe as the detective worked his magic. 

 

_ ‘I don’t think I’ve been this distracted while on the job in a long,  _ **_long_ ** _ time,’  _ he thought.

 

Once again, there was silence, and Jim just turned towards the security camera watching them, and  _ sneered. _

 

* * *

 

**_“All right, Mr. Cop and friend. Let’s have some_ ** _ real _ **_fun.”_ **

 

* * *

 

The search for Crane continued as Jim lead Abe down the halls of the labyrinth-like asylum. Eventually, the two stumbled upon an office, most likely Reed’s. With their guns raised, the men entered the room, stiff and on edge.

 

“Crane?” Jim called, the hesitation barely noticeable in his voice. Thunder flashed, and the two were oblivious to the horror who skulked in the corner behind them. Something is wrong.

 

_ ‘Very wrong,’  _ Abe thought, turning around only to be met with the hilt of a scythe crashing into his skull. He collapsed to the floor with an inaudible groan. He could hear the sound of fighting as he struggled with keeping his consciousness. Objects and shapes blurred around him, his barely open eyes unable to focus on anything. As he broke out of his stupor, he noticed the scuffling had stopped. He lifted his head slightly, feeling blood run down the side of his temple as he gazed at Gordon on the ground, a scarecrow standing above him.

 

**_“Do you believe in fate?”_ ** The scarecrow spoke,  **_“I didn’t before today,”_ ** He pressed his scythe near the detective’s neck,  **_“but you, sir, have made me a believer. Of all the police in Gotham, it was you.”_ ** He moved closer, but Abe could barely focus on the interaction, let alone get up and beat the ever-loving shit out of an evil nutjob.

 

_ ‘I definitely have a serious concussion.’ _

 

**_“You came.”_ ** He reached his hand up, his mask clicking, and he pulled it away to reveal… a kid?

 

_ ‘That must be Crane.’ _

 

“Jonathan.” Jim confirmed. “What happened to you?”

 

“Well, first, you killed my father.” His voice was less menacing without the effect the mask gave it.

 

“Your father was insane, he tried to kill you.” Jim reasoned.

 

“ _ He _ tried to  _ help  _ me. Help all mankind.”

 

“He was a murderer-”

 

“ _ He was a pioneer! _ A genius! He taught me, we can live our entire lives imprisoned by our fears, or we can  _ embrace  _ them,” he began to move the scythe away from Jim’s throat, and a quiet sigh of relief left Abe’s lungs. Didn’t want a dead cop on his hands. But that relief was short lived as Crane pulled out something from a pocket and shot gas into Jim’s face.

 

_ ‘That… must be that toxin.. Harvey was talking about.’ _ Abe struggled to shift his body without the kid noticing, definitely not wanting a dose of that gas. Better to play dead. 

 

Jim groaned and coughed, seemingly no sign of the toxin taking effect, until the man opened his eyes.

 

**_“You should know that better than anyone.”_ **

 

Suddenly Jim scooted back against the wall, his mouth agape as the Scarecrow taunted him. 

 

**_“What will you see, I wonder?”_ **

 

Jim stood up, clutching the wall like his life depended on it. 

 

“What scares you the most?” The boy tilted his head, staring down the frightened officer. He grinned, a dry, hushed chuckle escaping his throat. 

 

**_“One of your victims, perhaps?”_ **

 

Jim glanced at the doorway, terror filling every fiber of his being, and Abe could do nothing except watch.

 

**_“One of your victims?”_ **

 

Abe’s head was hurting again as more blood dripped from the wound on his head. Man, he wanted to sleep so badly, but now was not the time.

 

**_“What haunts you the most?”_ ** With that, the kid flipped on his mask, leaving Gordon with his fears and Abe with no sense of balance.

 

Abe struggled to stand up, getting dizzy as soon as he was on his feet, and just as he was about to ask Jim if he was alright, the man dashed out of the room, leaving the redhead in the dust.

 

“Shit.”

 

* * *

  
  


Abe knew he should go after Jim, but also knew that it was an awful idea to do that in his current state. He stumbled around the room, placing one of his gloved hands against the gash on his head as he searched around for some kind of gauze or bandage. They did surgery here! This crazy warden has a fucking brain and surgical tools in his office! There’s gotta be something to help.

 

After what could be considered the longest 5 minutes of Abraham’s life, he managed to find some antibiotic ointment and some bandages. He made do with what he found, feeling better once he stopped the bleeding, and head out to find that damn cop. Only then did he realize he truly was lost in an asylum full of the criminally insane. Not looking good for him.

 

He checked the magazine in his handgun before setting off down the hall he think Jim went. Right now, he really just hoped luck was on his side.

 

* * *

  
  


So, this was bad. In the course of 15 minutes, Abe had gotten himself lost and ended up in some kind of cafeteria room. Surrounded by the patients. And man, did they look ready to tear him apart piece by piece. Right when he had walked into the room, he had been ambushed by this monster of a man. He easily ripped the gun out of Abe’s hands, as if he was just a child. He then picked him up and  _ tossed  _ him across the room, all the patients cackling at his pain. And that did nothing to ease the ache in his head.

 

Just when he thought he was utterly screwed, he heard a voice. A voice he recognized. Relief flooded through his body.

 

“Crane? Crane?” Jim called, bursting through the doors and into the room.

 

 ** _“The demon is here.”_** And there goes the relief. “ ** _The demon who HAUNTS and TORTURES you is HERE.”_** The inmates directed their attention to the fresh meat that just entered the room. **_“THE ONE WHO POISONED YOUR MINDS. Destroy him and free yourself from his TYRANNY.”_**

 

The inmates swung and grabbed at Jim, and he swung right back with some sort of knife in his hand. With the people distracted, Abe pushed himself back on his feet, his vertigo worse than before.  _ ‘Man, I am a shitty hitman.’ _ He directed his focus on the Scarecrow, observing from the corner of the room. Maybe he could do something about that little  **_bastard_ ** .

 

**_“Kill him!”_ ** Ordered the Scarecrow, clutching his scythe close to his chest. Abe slowly pushed himself towards the lunatic, trying not to bring any attention to himself (for once). Thankfully, Jim could be coping pretty well for himself. 

 

Closer and closer, Abraham edged his way to the teenager, picking up a metal pipe that one of the patients had discarded in order to charge at Jim.

 

And then, the sprinklers came on. Everyone was doused in the spray from the fire prevention system. Abe looked up to see that Jim had held fire up to the alarm. The patients screamed, all of them visibly upset. 

 

_ ‘No idea what that’s about, but good for him.’  _ He brought his attention back to the current task at hand. Scarecrow was too distracted by the scene unfolding in front of him to pay attention to where the other man had gone. And then, he ran. Abe cursed and made sure to keep in mind where he ran off this time. His vertigo couldn’t deal with this right now.

 

“Jonathan? Jonathan-” The tough guy that had gotten his wits back and tackled Jim off the table he had previously been standing on. But no worries, Jim made quick work of the guy, hitting him over the head with a fire extinguisher.

 

_ ‘Still hot.’ _  
  


* * *

 

 

Jim strode quickly into the GCPD, Abe staggering in beside him. The detective had previously offered some kind of help, but Abe declined. His stupid masculinity couldn’t deal with it right now. 

 

“ _ Where is he? _ ” Eugh, the last person he wanted to deal with right now. There, in front of a crowd of press, stood the man himself. The Penguin. And you could see the moment the little man spotted them from the side of the room. He limped towards Abe and Jim, his cane clicking loudly against the floors of the station. The press followed behind him like a gaggle of children following their mother.

 

“We had a  _ deal _ Detective Gordon,” He spoke, stepping in front of the two men. Cobblepot sneered at Abraham’s presence, obviously displeased. “That you would apprehend Jonathan Crane.” Abraham took a deep breath.

 

“You made a stupid fuckin-” Abe started.

 

“I wasn’t  _ speaking  _ to you, was I?” Oswald gave him a smile full of contempt. Gordon put a hand in front of Abraham.

 

“You made a demand in front of your cronies,” Gordon stepped forward, his deep voice full of frustration. The paparazzi were silenced at the baritone of his voice. “In an attempt to undermine me and this department. There was no deal.”

 

Abe could see the beginnings of a tantrum face form on the stupid little bird’s previously smug complexion. The hitman smirked.

 

“ _ I  _ spoke for all of the citizens of Gotham when I said that the GCPD can no longer keep us safe. How many of you are  _ sick  _ of risking your lives every day just to see criminals escape?” He questioned, no addressing the officers of the precinct. “How many times has this very building become a war zone?”

 

“What do you have to say about that, Detective?” Voiced an officer.

 

“ _ I say _ it is time to start anew. To police ourselves,” the moron spoke, a smirk painting his face. “I will  _ triple _ the wage of any cop here who wants to work for  _ me _ in ensuring the safety of this city’s people. The future is  _ NOW! _ Follow me into it.” And that’s when Cobblepot made his exit.

 

“Police yourselves,” Jim grumbled. “He just wants to pay you to look the other way!” Abe sighed. 

 

_ ‘Well, yeah, that much is obvious-’ _

 

“Would you blame ‘em if they did?” Harvey descended down the stairs towards the two men. Jim broke into a brisk walk, making his way up the stairs. Abe tried his best to keep up, wanting a word with the man.

 

“I’ve got nothing to say to you-” Jim spoke.

 

“Hey hey hey-” Harvey grabbed his arm, preventing him from continuing his ascension. Abe stopped in his tracks. Maybe now wasn’t a good time.

 

“Hey, Jimbo?” The man interrupted. Harvey and Jim looked his way, a neutral look crossing both their faces. “I’m gonna-I’m gonna head out now, um… I just wanted to say, uh, it was cool working with you, and all that,” he eyed Harvey, “If you ever, uh, need some help in a sitch like that again, I wouldn’t mind helping you-possibly without a price.” He winked at the detective, pulling a business card out of his inner coat pocket. It was slightly bent at the corners from all of the excitement of the day. “Here’s my card-in case you need me.” He gave the two men a little salute, leaving them to whatever argument they were going to get into.

 

Abe took a breath of the fresh, morning air from outside the precinct. It’s times like these that make him glad he quit smoking. The pleasure didn’t last long, his head aching terribly. This time, maybe he would make a visit to the hospital.

 

The man sauntered down the road, unaware of the unwanted eyes that tracked his heavy steps.

 

**_“Welcome back to Gotham, Abey.”_ **


End file.
